The High Tower Adventures
by the.end.is.forever
Summary: I couldn't wait to make enough money to find out what happened to Raistlin and Caramon in the High Towers of Sorcery, so I wrote my own...hehe hope you like it!
1. Arrival

Authors Notes: I wrote this on WordPad because my stupid computer won't work on Works for right now,so i'm doing my hardest on integrity in editing, but i may miss a couple of I's here and there...please don't mind it, and perhaps I can transfer it to a works file soon. Also the italics mean that the character is thinking

_Finally_, Raistlin thought to himself, _we have finally arrived at the High Tower of Sorcery. Now comes the hard part_.

Caramon looked over at his small twin brother. He was so awed that such a frail looking man-no, more of a boy-could contain such power as fortold by the old wizard. He could still hear the dying words, such ethereal words_..."Raistlin will heal the stars, place them back in the sky, where they were meant to stay."_

They approached the gate of the magnificent structure. Immediately infront of them was a twisted, almost evil looking gate that was made of twisted black iron, with an adornment on the front that looked somewhat like a gnarled, yet powerful staff. This gate was protected by a powerful kekkai, and even a non-magic user could feel the strength of this warding spell. Beyond the gate was a towering building that seemed to be made of shining glass to Caramon. To Raistlin, this building was the love child of magic and beauty. With his magical gaze, he could see the wondrous magic oozing out of the windows and beckoning him from the doors.

Raistlin put out a hand to open the gate, and as he did, the staff split in two as the gate opened in the face of Raistlin's magical touch. They started up the stone walkway towards the door, and as they did, the gate creaked to a close behind them.

Raistlin snapped around at the sound of the creak as the gate came to a close. Somehow, he knew that he would not leave those gates again after a long time, and after much pain and suffering. He knew that his experiences behind these gates would forever change his life, if he even left alive. Little did he know that his predictions would be more correct than he could ever imagine.

Raistlin had now approached the entrance, deep in thought. Caramon nudged his little brother as he struggled to read the writing engraved upon the doors. Raistlin looked up, startled. He had been looking at the elven ruins etched into the stones that made the walkway they were walking upon. He looked up, startled out of his dream like state by his brother. Looking incredulously at Caramon, amazed that he was not the only one walking towards his fate, he read out the words that looked almost woven into the doors' pattern.

_  
Enter all ye mages that may,_

_For today could be your lucky day._

_On this day you do arrive_

_All who enter are alive._

_We cannot say the same for those who leave,_

_and some of those we have to heave,_

_From these Heav'nly doors of ours,_

_You may spend many hours_

_Within these walls magic contain'd_

_Without these walls, magic does not remain._

These words were written in an elaborate tongue that Raistlin was amazed that he could read. He said these words with passion and feeling, and said them as if they were in his native tongue. Caramon was abhorred as the doors opened to show a lovely maiden in the white robes that symbolised a mage that did magic for the wellbeing of Krynn. "Well done," the Lady in White said, "You have Passed your first of many challenges."

Caramon was so enraptured with this "Lady of the White Robes". While Raistlin chatted away to her while she showed them about their rooms that they would be staying in while Raistlin was taking his tests to become a mage, Caramon was staring at the Lady. She had long flowing black hair that fell in cascades down her back to the top of her hips. Her skin was a pale, almost marble-like color. Her eyes stood out against this skin shockingly. They were a dark emerald green color that were almost enchanting themselves, without the beautiful flush that was showing up in her cheeks as they climbed endless flights of stairs, or her full pink lips that opened to an opulent, charismatic, and sexually charged smile. He could not explain the feelings that were rushing through his body, from the thrilling rush that came forth from his thighs, or the tug he could feel near his bellybutton. Suddenly, the party came to a halt. They were at a landing that faced down the corridor. What the two mages were looking at, Caramon could never know, but somehow, it made Raistlin shudder and the Lady tremble. Raistlin took a step forward, and put out his hand. At this action, a triumphant smile spread over the Lady's face.  
She turned to Raistlin and exclaimed, " I see that you will do very well here, young mage." Raistlin could never know that this was simple statement was almost as far away from the truth that it could it be.


	2. Learning

As soon as Raistlin was shown to his room, Caramon took this chance to get to know the beautiful Lady of the Tower. "So, Lady..." Caramon attempted a nonchalant tone and failed. "Do you have a name?"

"Perhaps I do, perhaps it is not for your human ears to hear, and perhaaaps..." The elf-maiden trailed off. "Perhaps I think that you are so dashing, and that I know that you think I am the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, that I'm scared to tell you my name, Caramon of Solace Wood."

Caramon stood in a shocked, pleased silence after hearing these words.

"Shandra."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Shandra, but if you want, you can call me Shandi."

Caramon and Shandra talked the entire way to his room, which happened to be one floor up and nearly all the way across the tower from his brother. Caramon was rather displeased with this arrangement, as he considered himself somewhat to be Raistlin's guardian, but he did not wish to come into Shandra's ill graces, so he mentioned nothing of it. He thought to himself, _I shall talk to one of the others about getting a room somewhat closer to Raistlin's._ His thoughts were interrupted by Shandi's voice. "We are here," She said quietly. "We eat at eight, one, and six-ish. Wake up is about six, and because you will not be taking the tests, you will most likely be put to work insert chiming laugh here. Erm...anything special can be taken care of the gully dwarves, just jangle the bell over the door and they'll hear you. I hope i should see you and your brother at lunch tomorrow, as I eat my breakfast in my fathers chambers usually. See you then!". And with these words, she stood up as tall as she could and kissed Caramon on the collarbone bared by his travelling shirt.

Caramon blushed a violent red, and mumbled out a few incoherent words that sounded something like "yeh, g'bye". Caramon opened the rich mahogany door emblazoned with a carving that looked something like a celtic knot that looked vaguely familiar, as if he had seen it a long time ago, and it was a vivid memory he couldn't recall...

This thought troubled Caramon through his short snack (a chicken breast and a small head-sized bowl of kendarian salad.) It also interrupted him while he was trying to practice reading Tasslehoff, his kender friend's writing. While he was changing out of his travel clothes, he heard a faint, almost inaudible knock on his door. At first, Caramon thought it must be Raistlin, but then looking outside, he saw it was a perfect full moon, at almost the highest point in the sky, and he knew Raistlin would be in his room or the library committing all manner of complicated spells to memory; this was the fate of all mages, to have to continually commit their spells to memory. Then Caramon's mind flitted to Shandra, and his heartbeat quickened. He went to the door, nearly naked, infact, the only thing keeping him from being naked was a long pair of undershorts which he mostly used for swim wear while travelling. This was one mistake he should not have committed, because, at the door was neither Shandra, nor a friend.

A tall elven looking man was standing at Caramon's door, framed by the light flooding into the hallway from Caramon's room.This particular elf had jet black hair that was quite curly and short, only about an inch long. His eyes were a bright aquamarine color, and he had an angular jaw, matched with full lips that were drawn into a near-sneer. He had an arrogant posture, and had a way of making people fear him just with the way he held himself. He wore a green and white long sleeved lounging shirt and a pair of black slacks that did little to hide the silvery slippers he wore upon his feet. _Definitely valuable,_ Caramon thought, _ wouldn't want a gully dwarf to get hold of those, you'd have to travel to far Jarva to get those back._

"Caramon of Solace Wood, I presume? I am Laures Maykar. My father is the Master of this Tower. I have heard from my sister of you, dear Caramon. Perhaps-heh, right- you have met my sister, Shandra Maykar?" At her name, Caramon felt the heat rise to his face. "Ah, yes, I see you have. Many men have had this reaction to my sister, very few humans have had the pleasure of talking to her, and even less yet the ability to have an in depth conversation with her before attempting to rape her. I warn you now, if your intentions are even hinting at more than being her _friend_, then we will have a problem...well, i guess you will. I wont maniacal laugh here be the one with a poisoned spear shoved up my ass...do we understand each other? Yes? Good. This is good. I like you...Caramon of Solace Wood. Perhaps we can talk tomorrow at lunch..." And with these words, Laures peeled himself off of the doorframe, turned, looked back and winked, and then dissapeared into the darkness that was the hallway.

Meanwhile, in the library, Raistlin was burying himself in a powerful magic book. Even though these spells were far too complex for him to perform, he could still learn them. It was intriguing to feel the magic flowing through his veins as he read these words. The ethereal feeling it gave him was better than good food, good wine, too much wine, pretty women, elven women, a good book, or anything, really. The only thing that gave him a better feeling was the way he felt when he had been with her. This mysterious her was so long ago, yet so much in the presence, it confused him. Sometimes he could get so lost in memories that it would take several minutes for Caramon or Tanis to wake him up from his trance. If only he could really remember all of it...if only...


	3. Awakening

Caramon awoke the next morning, and was thrown off guard by the new surroundings. He stretched his muscled body, scratched the short curly blonde hairs that grew just beneath his belly button, and then swung his legs out of bed. He stood, flexed a few odd muscles, and invited the sunlight into his room with two short flicks of his wrists. The warm sunlight was delicious to his nakedness, and he felt a true contentment as he went about preparing himself for his day.

Raistlin awoke about the same time as Caramon. Such was the way with twins in Krynn, a mental connection had always tied them together, allowing each other to feel the emotions the other was feeling. Same was the way with awakeness, sleep and their concious states. Ever since a young age, they would always wake up nearly at coordinated times. So, as Raistlin felt the tug on the corner of his brain stating simply, _Awake_, he would awake. He stretched, relinquishing the protests his muscles put out. He loved this feeling, it was like poking a bruise or kneading a sore muscle. It sent a thrill through him that could nearly rival an orgasm. Feeling the strength from his wiry, yet muscular body, was something that thrilled him better than a lovers' company. _My mind was not ready for this day yet..._ Raistlin thought. At this, he fumbled around the edge of his bed, which was made of wrought iron with a headboard and endboard as tall as a man that had, if you looked close enough, images of men and women woven together in carnal embrace to form a large scene of a man and woman making love. Atop their heads were crowns of silk they shared with their brethren at the opposite end. This silk formed a large screen around the bed, which kept Raistlin hidden from all sunlight and servants that may sneak into the room. Raistlin took this chance to practice a few important spells and go over a few tough points of others. Raistlin propped his book up on a pillow and turned over on his stomach. He then turned himself so that he was on the opposite side of the bed that he had started on. The cream colored silk sheets were bunched up underneath of his left hipbone, and all that was covering him was a rich silver, white and blue silken damask bedcover draped over his bottom and upper thighs like a skirt. If one were to admire him, you would notice the flaxen hair, the fair skin that covered his entire body, and the rippling strength that was reflected under his skin. He figured, by the amount of activity going on outside in the corridor, that he would be "awoken" in about an hour or so. Silly Caramon and his odd hours...Raistlin muttered a few curses under his breath and then continued on studying.

Caramon did not see Shandi at breakfast. He had practically inhaled the entire table, eating nearly a whole ham, three large eggs, nearly a loaf's worth of toast, and quite a bit of cheese. He had gulped down his fifth, and final, glass of milk, just before slapping a frail looking elf on the back and roaring, "So...I hear you have work for me." The elf had practically convulsed with that smack, then proceeded to turn extremely red and attempt at spluttering out an apology in Elvish. A voice answered from behind Caramon, "Yes, you will do just fine...". Caramon turned about to look at the voice. Before him stood a short pudgy man who looked to be nearly rotting before him. The man had a nearly bald head that was sprinkled with freckles, age spots, and the odd grey hair. He had extremely drooping jowels and quite watery eyes the color of human waste. He was dressed in an overlarge green tunic with a golden belt around the middle that held a dagger and two pouches upon it. However neat he had been when he was young, he looked to be decomposing before Caramon's eyes. Caramon, not to be broken, replied, "Then show me what you need." and with that, they exited from the dining area.

Raistlin had sat across from his brother at breakfast. He had seen him annihillate the so-called Elven feast. He himself had eaten a ham and cheese sandwich. He was already beginning to feel nauseated as the excitement of the days events turned his stomach. As the watery eyed man and Caramon meandered away, he heard a large bell resound throughout the tower. His head swivelled around to look about the room. He saw a cloaked figure move through the doorway. This cloaked figure beckoned to him. Raistlin, almost without knowing it, came to the figures' side. Jaws dropped, both man and elf, as they turned and left the dining area. Raistlin did not know where they were going or how long it would take them to get there, or how long they would be gone. All that he could determine was that this figure would be the one to test him first.

Caramon soon learned that the bald man was called Freya by his men. Freya ordered him to begin clearing away any and all debris upon the paths of the Towers' guardians, and if he did not do a good job of it, Freya would "Turn him into a stinking pile of feed". Caramon doubted it, but his hands were aching to do something, so he set them to work. It was not long before Caramon was begun on the Eastern paths, the ones that neared to the servant's quarters. These were trodden deep and easy to find. They were also littered with leaves, and the more harder ones to clean. He set to this task,marking where he had been with a knotted chunk of rope placed at the beginning of the path. He started to go deeper into the paths, coming upon small paths he was certain that only the owners would know of. Suddenly, Caramon looked up. He had heard a noise. It sounded like the whimpering of a small animal. Caramon had a weak spot for the injured and the unwell. He began to search out the animal to aid it, and if neccessary, put it out of its misery. What he came upon though, was something else.

A/N: dun, dun, DUN...i'm sorry that this one is kindof short, however I am somewhat busy right now...herm, dare.to.know, yes i did write Freya from your drivers training instructor (insert maniacal drunken fall down piss yourself silly laughter here). I am also going to try to get some of my drawings of Caramon, Raistlin, Shandi and Laures scanned and put on a website.


	4. Loving

Brief mentions to rape. Warning: this chapter is a bit mature content, in that children may not grasp some of these certain concept. Viewer discretion is advised.

Raistlin lifted his curly chestnut topped head to show a strained face. Beads of sweat covered his forehead and upper lip, and his cheeks were flushed. He did not, could not know that the tests would be this hard. His first task was to move a mansions worth of blocks into a mid-sized crate. One wrong placement could cost him valuable time, as he had only until nightfall to move them. It was probably nearing onto lunchtime, and he had only put a third of the blocks into the wooden crate. He would work with the Earth-master, the tall figure that had fetched him from breakfast, for the next fortnight. _If this is the first task_, he thought to himself,_ then I may rightly have to move the entire land of Krynn closer to Silvanesti._ Then, with a grumble, he lifted another heavy block into the crate, hoping he had set it right.

What Caramon had found, nothing could prepare him for. Years of death, battles, injuries and other assorted niceties had surrounded him. He had fought, and killed, all sorts of evilry; he had watched many he knew die horrible and painful deaths, but this, this could not be equalled. He stumbled down a small path, probably meant for the slave children to dart around and play upon, possibly a good hiding place, as Caramon noticed the tall trees that would be easy to climb and the fallen logs it would be simple to hide behind. He also noticed deep ruts in the ground, and with a smile, recalled his own childhood attempts at "hiding". He soon noticed a change in the path, it became narrower and less well marked. Then to his horror, he noticed small pools of blood and rushed footprints in the ground, where there was dirt. They were quite small, perhaps a childs or even a young maidens, and were somewhat twisted, as if the person were looking behind them. It was quite clear that this person was being chased. He followed these footsteps deeper into the forest, beginning to hear again the sobbing noise that had brought him in here. He soon began to run, as the cries became louder, ignoring the branches and thick foliage that whipped about his face. He stumbled once over the root of a tree, but ignored the tug it gave him and flew on past. He ran so hard, he barely noticed a change in the thickness of the forest. He came upon a clearing, and what he saw there set him aback.

Raistlin set the last block into the crate, feeling it scrape upon the edges of the other rocks. A tight fit, but it went in. He walked over to where the Earth master was splayed out upon the ground, sleeping. He had grown bored of watching his newest pupil. Raistlin reached out and poked out at the master with his foot. He recoiled his foot immediately, as a feirce pain tore at his leg. Raistlin's knees gave way and he felt himself plummeting to the ground. He writhed about in agony, the Earth master appearing into his tear clouded field of vision. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the master called upon the Forgotten Gods to heal his leg, and, all the while, chastising Raistlin for spurning him with his foot. Raistlin's pain subsided as the magic took some of the injury away. As soon as the pain had permitted him to speak, he asked the Earth master why it hurt him when he had attempted to wake him. The answer was a simple, " I am the Earth master, that is why." Raistlin felt that this was not thorough enough, however, he left it alone. Together, they walked the long walk back towards the Tower, Raistlin hoping that they would get there before supper was served, feeling a nearly insatiable hunger.

Caramon, however, did not care if he would ever eat again. He cradled the bloody figure in his arms, tears streaming down his face from the monstrosity of this poor thing. It had felt ages since he had come upon the scene in the clearing, however, it had not even been a full hour. He would never forget it, describing it late into his life. He had plummeted into the clearing, and as was his keen training, he looked around the clearing. Truly beautiful, rich emerald-foliaged trees surrounded the clearing. The grass was a rich green shade, and here and there was the odd flowering bush visible among the trees. Running along one edge of the clearing was a crystal blue trickle. There was a large grey boulder, about the size of a small horse. Crouched at its base was a small mishapen figure. He guessed it was a girl by the length of the matted chestnut-colored hair that hid her face. She was crouched in a small ball, and loud cries of intense sadness erupted from the ball every once in a while. She obviously had not yet seen him. As he approched her, the state of her dress became clearer, and he shuddered. She wore what must have once been a wonderful dress. As he neared, he could see that it was once white, now made a cream color by sweat, dirt and lord knows what else. Suddenly, her head shifted towards where he was standing, and he was taken far aback. Her hair had once hidden the back of her dress, but, now it had moved and it revealed a whip-torn dress, and her back was bloody and torn, whip marks covering scars over scars. Who could this girl be?! Her face was dirty. She was so young, Gods, just out of a childhood. This torture must have been happening during her toddler years for those scars to be true. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and as she looked up at him, she cringed. "Please, don't hurt me! Don't whip me today. Tomorrow. I will pay you. Don't hurt me.." She whispered pitifully, her words full of choked tears. She came near him, and grabbed onto his calf. Her fingers traced up to his inner thighs before he could grab her hands away from him. He whispered to her, "How could I hurt you such as this? Who has done this? I shall rip them to peices...I am here, I will keep you safe. My child..." He whispered these last two words to her over and over, as he rocked her in his lap, holding her, wiping her tears and his until they both had no more. He then brought her to the small stream, wiping the dirt and tears from her face. She had clear ivory skin, light blue eyes, and rather childish features. He aided her in removing her dress and casting it aside like an evil memory. He ripped a large chunk off the bottom, and tried to bathe the wounds as best he could. He found she had evil nail marks on her belly, as if she had been raped. The insides of her legs were bruised, and there were forceful bite marks around her nipples. She couldn't have been more than ten years old! There were deep cuts in her arms and a couple of deep scars around her wrists, where it was obvious she had before tried to remove herself from her misery. But the worst damage was located from the bottom of her hairline to the top of her calves. The recent wounds were located on her back, and scars riddled the other areas. There were deep white ones covered by fresher red and brown ones. Caramon, disgusted, tried to hold back another wave of tears. He then removed his large shirt and gave it to the girl. He carried her back through the brush, to the main trail. Just as he rounded a corner, Freya was coming onto that same path. "Where have you been, you lazy boy?" Freya shreiked.

Caramon, furious with this silly little man, ignored him. He brushed past Freya with the girl in his hands. Freya gaped behind Caramon, befrazzled that he had just blown him off. He tried to yell something, but all that came out was gibber. He was flabberghasted, and for one moment in his life, was quiet.

If you thought this chapter was deep, then wait till you see the next one. The plot shall thicken. May your swords stay sharp!


	5. Caring

Caramon carried the girl to the main entrance of the Tower, and bellowed out an anguished cry. Almost immediately, the doors flew open, and Laures came into sight.

"You have my slave girl AND my sister?!" Laures bellowed.

"Slave girl?" spat Caramon. "She is no slave of yours. You know as rightly well as I do that a child-girl brothel is not the same as slavery. Besides. You permit her to wear white. She is yours no longer. She-is-mine." These last two words were said with clenched teeth.

Laures' face turned from the calm, collected color of ivory, to a sallow, ugly yellow shade, to a bright red flush. Caramon's soul lept, and he brushed past Laures with an ennervatingly triumphant smile upon his face.

Raistlin's hunger tore fiercely at him as he looked upon the grand feast they had prepared for him. His eyes grew wide as they slid over the enormous ham, the head-sized wheels of cheese, the piles of loaves, and the flagons of wine infront of him. He took great haste in finding the largest slice of ham, and taking a large chunk of cheese. He said, through a stuffed mouth, to pass a loaf, and immediately, wide eyed elf-children fetched him over a dozen loaves. He washed his food down with goblet after endless goblet of rich red wine, and was soon feeling somewhat light-headed. Other partakers in the feast looked on as Raistlin ate inhuman proportions that equalled to his brother's insatiable appetite. They had seen Caramon, earlier that morning, devour their feast, and now they knew how these two men were related, if not by looks, then by the hunger of their innards.

Caramon, instead of attending the heady dinner feast, found his way to his rooms with the girl and called for two female servants. He could hear them rushing down the hallway, tripping over each others rather elaborate work dresses they were forced to wear, so great was his bellow. When they arrived, he could hear them trying to catch their breath, and preening themselves. _Unneccessary,_ he thought,_ they think I wish to have them for myself. So wrong are they, that it hurts my soul._

They entered, and took awe at the girl laying upon Caramon's chest. She would not let go of him, nor would he permit her to.Though her back was covered still by Caramon's shirt, they could see how skinny her legs and arms were. Caramon quickly said, "I need a bath drawn for this young miss here. I also need clean bandages, a healer, and a dress, if you can manage it. But!" Caramon said quickly. "No white. No white at all. And do not let young Master Laures see you." he commanded.

They took quick curtsies, and hustled out the door. They were confused by these instructions, but they had before recieved odder ones. They were glad, actually that this big man had not wanted them for himself. He was too large of a man to be small in his trousers. His brother, on the other hand, they were sure that they could handle him.

Shandi was near to frantic. She had not seen Caramon at lunch, or his brothers Earth Recieving feast. She had frantically run to Freya, that idiotic old man, and had asked if he had come to work. Freya muttered a few nasty words not meant to be heard by womanly ears, and quickly trotted away. This had bothered her some, and so she decided to find him. She put on a deep purple cloak over her head, and walked quickly into the dark.

The servants came to the door of Caramon's room yet again, and this time they had a rich dress in tow. It was a magnificent creation, a purple and black dress meant for special occasions. It had once been Miss Shandra's dress, or so it was said. It was sent back to the Wardrobe Maiden when Shandra had been quite small, and it had never been requested again. It had a black corset ontop with a purple sheen to it. There was chunks of purple and black chiffon sewn onto the corset, giving it a look something like a dance costume. They had also brought a large box of hairpins and a long roll of purple ribbons to weave into the girls hair. When they entered the room they saw Caramon's back, with the little Miss' arms about his broad, bare shoulders. They saw that Caramon was swaying about, rocking the girl, and they could hear soft singing coming from his mouth. They quietly placed the dress on the bed, along with the bandages they had brought, and softly walked into the bath and began drawing up water from the lower floors. This was done with a hole in the ground where a bucket could be lowered into the naturally heated springs below the Tower.

Once they were done drawing up the water, they quietly went back into the room, and the younger one softly cleared her throat. Caramon spun around, and seeing only them, spoke softly into the girls ear. He then passed her off to the older maiden and grabbed the younger one by the arm. He whispered quickly into her ear, " Be warned, all is not as it appears. Be gentle. If you hurt her, you will hurt too. Bandage her wounds gently, she is in much pain. Please place her in that contraption and make her feel like a beautifull miss once again, and then bring her to me. I will be in the dining hall, where my brother is now supping. Also, could you find her name, and possibly the name of the inflictor?"

The young maid flushed from the closeness of this man, and curtsied. She then spun through the doorway behind her and began prising the shirt the girl had clutched in her fingers off of the frail body. She was set much aback by the wounds, when she finally got the shirt over the girls head. But, unperterbed, she ushered the older maid towards the clothing, and then gently lead the girl to the steaming bathtub. The girl slowly stepped up the stairs and gently eased her foot into the richly tiled tub, and, feeling no pain from the warmth of the water, gracefully eased herself into the tub. When the water reached her injuries, she shut her eyes, and from these, two solitary tears came forth. But she bore this pain courageously, and the young maid looked upon her with great admiration. The maid took up the dark blue washrag and began cleansing the dirt from the girls body, all the while talking to her and telling her stories. Throughout the bath, the girl remained silent, but courteously interested in what the maid had to say. When the maid would come to a particularly tense part in her talking, the girls eyes would widen or tense accordingly. Finally, the maid finished all her washing, and was ready to bandage the girl. She helped the girl out of the tub, and the girl slid a little on the tile flooring. As an instant reflex, the maid said, "Be careful-" and it occured she didn't know the girl's name.

The maid tried to go about it gently. She had never heard the girl speak, she didn't even know if she could. The maid asked gently, "What is your name, lass?"

And the girl replied. She said in a soft, melodic, childlike voice, "I...I am the Wench."

The maid frowned her eyebrows at the girl. "That could not be your true name."

"I am called it often enough"

"Well you must have a true name. My name is Menara, and her" she said, gesturing towards the older lady standing patiently near them, bandages in hand, "name is Leesae-ann."

" I remember somebody came to me one time, when I was very ill. She, it must have been a she, placed her hand upon my besweated brow and cooled my body with ice, and quenched my water-thirst. And she sang me the most lovely song, it had my name in it. She sang it like this:

_Sunarii du illla_

_Sunalii u itra_

_Suchtalii mon milla_

_ye'lon_

_Sunarii y milla_

_Sunalli du silla_

_Wu'tari solitra_

_Solitra, Solitra_

_Yu namos es_

_S'phianne, S'phianne_

_Yu namos es_

_S'phianne."_

She had such a clear, harmonic voice. It was almost as if a choir of gods were singing through this girl, S'phianne. Menara was stunned at the talent that this girl had, and was awe-struck by the horror that this girl had suffered. She gently lead the girl to a chair, where her an Leesae-ann bandaged her wounds. They then stood her up and helped her put on the dress. They loosely bound the corset to her back and found that the dress fit as if made for her. They then wound the purple ribbons into her hair and pinned it up. They tried their best to hide the showing scars on her back with powders and salves, but to no avail. It was a tragedy that this lovely girl had been ruined so prematurely. She would have made a high bounty wife for some rich, handsome lord, and would have produced the most lovely of children.

When all was prepared, Menara took S'phianne by the hand and directed her towards the great dining hall. She could hear laughter and talking, so she knew Caramon would be about somewhere. When they got to the doors, the two esquires guarding the doors bowed low, and opened the doors with great flourish. Every head spun about to see who was daring to interrupt the feast of a great mage, and when they saw the lovely young maiden standing at the door, with her maid in hand, they bowed their heads in silence of her beauty. Caramon stepped forth, awed, and held out his hand to the young girl.


End file.
